


Past the Bleachers

by crowdedangels



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Amazing, F/M, There's A Tag For That
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-07-29 03:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16256156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowdedangels/pseuds/crowdedangels
Summary: Jack O'Neill takes the call to coach the local little league team, a difficult task after a recent tragedy. The mysterious blonde Aunt of two of his team catches his eye.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I posted a simple, short 'huh, what if/AU where' and it got more notes than about anything I posted on the Tumblrsphere. Hope this lives up to it!!
> 
> Inspired by RDA's film of the same name.
> 
> Huge amazing thanks to XFChemist who gifted this story with cover art! I think you can find it here: http://xfchemist.tumblr.com/post/179278105053/new-day-new-cover-art-for-this-wip

Jack's intended day consisted of washing the truck, taking Thor to the park and grilling a steak for dinner. He had the deck to finish repainting but the incoming clouds suggested that wasn't a wise option for his Sunday. Retirement had it's perks but without the German Shepherd mix currently snoring away in his truck, the days would be too long.

 

He was elbow deep in a soapy bucket, ringing out a sponge and slapping it onto his truck's wind-shield when the car pulled into the drive behind his. He vaguely recognised the portly, balding man who eased himself from the low seat and waved. Thor clamoured up to his feet from the bed of the truck, a watchful eye on the visitor.

 

“Jack, George Hammond,” he stuck out his hand and got a tentative shake. “You may not remember me, I run the local baseball little league that your son used to play for.”

 

That's where he knew him, “Right! Right, nice to meet you. Again?”

 

“Listen son, I wanted to apologise firstly, for not offering my condolences when your boy passed away. I was so sorry to hear that.”

 

Jack's gaze dropped to his feet, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Thank you.”

 

“You and your wife doing okay?”

 

“We, er, we split. You know how it goes... So what can I do for you?”

 

“You been keeping up with baseball, Jack?” George asked, schooling the sadness from his features.

 

“I catch the occasional game,” he lied. He hadn't watched since Charlie died.

 

“The season starts up again soon.”

 

“That so? Seems like it only just ended.” He knew exactly when it started back up; the changes in weather could tell him never mind the calendar. The season was ingrained in him.

 

George scoffed, “Tell me about it. Feels like the hiatus between handing out trophies and finding new coaches gets smaller every year.”

 

Jack looked up, “...Wait. Are you here to get me to coach?”

 

“Well, I had planned to ease into the conversation a bit more gracefully, but yes.”

 

“Not interested.”

 

Hammond followed as Jack picked up the bucket and went into the open garage. “It's more fun that it sounds, Jack. It might even be good for you.”

 

“I'm retired for good reason.” His knees if nothing else.

 

“I was thinking more about getting out of the house, keeping busy, being around kids. It can help.” He was losing his battle, watching as Jack emptied out the bucket into the grid and wiped his hands on his tee shirt. “They're good kids. You probably know half of them, their parents at least. Your son was a popular boy.”

 

“He was.”

 

“And, of course, I can't deny what having someone of your stature and career could do for our little league.” Hammond stared at him, trying to gauge if he should chalk it up as a loss or of he had dangled enough bait. “Listen, just...think on it, okay?” He left a business card on the workbench, smiled his goodbye and climbed into his car. 

 

Jack gave a little wave, carding his fingers through Thor's fur who had trotted over to his side, both watching as the car turned into the street, “Yeahsureyeahbetcha.”

 

Once the car was rinsed and the clouds threatened impending rain – naturally – Jack packed up and went inside, grabbing a beer and stretching his aching knees out onto the coffee table. He flicked TV channels while he swigged from the bottle, regretting not getting two beers before he sat down. He avoided the news channels – he was depressed enough, didn't need to add to it with current events - and flicked past the latest teen vampire show, and found a baseball game on the next station. He lingered during a few pitches, recognising a few faces and a few bad calls from the coaching staff.

 

His mind flashed to taking Charlie to his first game, sat in the stadium to watch the Colorado Rockies with wide eyes and red stitching quickly engraving around his heart. He had the bug; Jack knew because he recognised it all from his own childhood, sat watching the Chicago Cubs with his grandfather and devouring everything he could get his hands on through little league, school, getting scouted at 17 and running out onto the Big League diamond out for the National Anthem. Fireworks shooting, crowds cheering, his grandparents behind the home plate hollering for him.

 

Then came Sara, dodgy slides, bad knees, Charlie. His eyes fell onto the family portrait tacked to the wall, Charlie's little league team shirt peeking out beneath his tee, his hand firmly tucked inside his glove and not coming out despite the bribery from Sara.

 

Jack thought to what he had planned tomorrow, how his schedule would have to change to accommodate the commitment to a baseball team again, regardless of the age of the players, and realised he would have to rearrange grocery shopping and record The Simpsons. That was it. “Oh, for cryin' out loud...” he fished his cell phone from his pants pocket and dialled the number on the business card. “George? Jack. I'm in.”

 

–

 

It turned out Little League Commissioners had big houses with meeting rooms. A long, mahogany conference table was down the centre of the room, twelve chairs around it and trophy cases lining the walls. A large American flag was near the door and Jack wondered what the hell he had just signed up for. His coach during his tenure as a Pro didn't have this kind of set up.

 

He looked across the framed pictures on the wall of teams gone by; rows of shiny faced kids, squinting into the sun from black-and-white to technicolour, the years passing by and the uniforms staying mostly the same. The teams slowly gained black kids and Asian, the odd girl as Jack walked the walls, George Hammond in each photograph and slowly losing his hair as he traversed the years.

 

“You're... You're Jack O'Neill, right?”

 

“For my sins,” Jack nodded, turning to the owner of the Southern accent looking at him like he was in awe.

 

“Cameron Mitchell. Cam,” he held out a hand and shook Jack's tightly. “Huge fan. I was there when you played the Nationals – well, I say played, you  _ killed _ them. It was awesome!” He seemed to catch himself and reigned in his fawning. “Are you coaching too?”

 

“That's the plan.” Jack's gaze flicked past him to the other men filtering in, one of whom seemed to be holding court and chatting animatedly to the others.

 

“Didn't you retire?”

 

“Try telling that to Hammond.”

 

Cam smiled as the man himself bounded into the room. “Gentlemen,” he closed the door behind him and stood at the head of the table while the seats around the table were taken by the men in the room. “Thank you for coming in and joining us the season. And it's going to be quite a season, let me tell you.”

 

“I have your rosters here- Walter, would you please?” he held out the folders to his assistant at his side who took the proffered paperwork and passed them out around the table. “You may recognise some names, you may not, but today is...”

 

Jack's attention drifted from the speech to the folder he had been given. If he had heard one pep talk at the start of the season he had heard them all. He flipped the front page and looked down the list of names. Sure enough, he did know most them. Charlie had played with majority of them; he and Sara had had their parents over for BBQs and game nights. They would take turns to host World Series and Superbowl parties. The kids would have birthday parties and sleep overs, knock on each others homes to ride bikes and play games in the street-

 

Hammond's voice filtered back in when he had managed to swallow down the sickening taste in his mouth, the painful nostalgia that tasted like bile and old whisky and overtook the memories of happy times to the vivid flashbacks of picking Charlie up into his arms, his limp body jostling as he ran to his car, the warmth of his blood beneath his hands.

 

Overly loud laughter filled the room and Jack looked around, his face warm and sweating and wide-eyed to see sympathetic smiles. Not to him though, to whoever was near the top of the table. Jack swallowed, blinking rapidly to clear his vision and willing his heart to slow.

 

Hammond turned the cover on his folder and slapped his hand down on it, “So, then. Godspeed and let's play ball!”

 

Good natured trash talk filled the room and chairs were pushed back under the table. Jack twisted the folder into a cylinder and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket, and joined the mass exodus.

 

–

 

It was a warm Wednesday afternoon when the Colorado Springs Stargates had their first practice. Twelve kids sat on the grass, looking up to him and expecting him to be something he wasn't sure he was any more. He fidgeted the ball in his hands, “Okay, kids! My name is Jack O'Neill, you can call me Coach. Who's ready to play some ball?”

 

A resounding chorus of whoops sounded.

 

“Who's played before?”

 

A decent amount of hands went up from the boys and girls.

 

“Who wants to win some games?”

 

Thankfully, every hand went up.

 

“Okay! So who can tell me the two most important things in baseball?”

 

The hands went down and they looked to each other for answers. A girl in the back piped up, “Um...runs?”

 

“Yes! What's your name, kid?”

 

“Emily.”

 

“Great, Emily got one, who can tell me the other?”

 

Blank faces stared back at him apart from the proud smile from the girl in the back.

 

“Give up?  _ Teamwork. _ ”

 

They all groaned which made Jack laugh. “I know, it's a cliché but it's true. The pitcher can't cover outfield as well, so we have to trust the team and know the guy has –  _ or girl _ ! The guy  _ or girl _ way out has your back.” He was going to need to work on his pronouns. “With me?”

 

“Yeah!”

 

“Okay, go pair up and throw the ball around. Let's see what kind of arms we got.”

 

The kids excitedly ran into the park and spread out, tossing the ball between them with a few chasing after it was missed. Jack walked amongst them, happy the hardest bit was over, now came the fun bit. He hoped.

 

A few hours of catch, a bit of batting practice and some words of encouragement, Jack wrapped up the first meeting of the Colorado Springs Stargates with reminders for another practice the next day and a game on Wednesday. “Go on, get out of here.”

 

“Bye Coach!” the kid called Emily shouted, pushing her younger brother (Matt? Mike? Shit, he really needed to learn some names) towards the parking lot and where their Dad was collecting them.

 

Jack smiled and gave a wave as he collected the balls into a basket and zipped up the bats into a bag.

 

“Seems you've already made an impact.”

 

Jack turned to the voice and found Hammond up against the chain link fence, a soft smile on his face.

 

“They're good kids.”

 

“Any promise for the season?” He asked, following him to his truck from the other side of the fence.

 

“Maybe. Couple of good arms, a lot of cheek too though.”

 

Hammond laughed, “Kids today.”

 

“Something like that. You check up on all your coaches?”

 

“Just the new ones,” he held open the gate so Jack could manoeuvre the equipment through the opening. “Also wanted to let you know that we're working on getting you an assistant coach. It's slim pickin’s at the moment, but we'll find someone. Unless you know anyone?”

 

He did have a guy in mind, “I'll make some calls.”

 

“Excellent. First game Wednesday, think you'll be ready?”

 

“Hell no.”

 

Wednesday's game came around quicker than Jack had really anticipated. He was used to a good few months of pre-season, of players almost ready to play and just needing a fine tuning and some conditioning. He was now part babysitter, part coach, part referee and he didn't feel like he had actually taught the kids anything so far. He had a few decent catchers, one good pitcher and another that tried his damnedest though needed a lot of work. The hitters were more miss than hit, but with time that could all come. He enjoyed the time with them, he liked being around them and looked forward to the time of the day when he would pull into the parking lot at the Cheyenne Mountain Park.

 

He found that the little thrill he used to get when pulling the stadiums parking lots or wherever was coming back. Like the smell of freshly mown grass, treated sprinkler water and lingering hotdogs swelled his chest and sent tingles through his skin. He clipped the leash onto Thor's collar – something the dog wasn't too used to and not too appreciative of – and tugged him out of the truck and towards the diamond.

 

Parents were starting to park up, kids running out and waving to their pals, Dad's giving some semblance of pep talks before trash talking to other Dads. Mum's doing the same though less conspicuous. He also caught the odd pointed stare to him, the sheepish wave hello from those he used to hang out with. A few had spoken to him, asked how he was getting on, apologised for not being in touch after ' _ y'know...everything'.  _ The damage had been done though and ties severed. He was proud to say that he wasn't taking any lingering feelings of malcontent out on the kids because they had nothing to apologise for, their parents arguably did however.

 

Jack tied Thor up to the fence near the Stargates' dugout, gave him a bowl of water, a treat and a pat to the head and set up for the game.

 

They were fielding first, so the kids spread out to mostly where they were supposed to be. Jack gave a few hollars and gestures to get them into position, whistled for a few to crouch with hands on knees and gave up when a couple got distracted or bored and found cloud formations more interesting.

 

It was around the second inning when he himself got distracted. Thor was flat out on his side, his tongue lolled out and the sound of a gentle snore pulling Jack's attention. He had looked over his shoulder and grinned in jealousy at the dog when the roar of a motorcycle got louder, passed the park at speed and pulled into the parking lot. He followed the sight, wondering if the slender thighs grasping the bike were in fact from a woman of whom his mind was concocting delicious images. The thwack of ball against bat pulled his eyes away from the reveal and he called for Emily to “Catch it! Emily! Eyes on the ball! Yes! Excellent catch! Now to second!  _ Second _ !”

 

The ball went a little wayward from second and Emily seemed to be hard on herself for the throw, to which Jack tried to holler words of encouragement. When the next pitch was thrown, he looked back to the bike but saw no rider and couldn't decide who from the bleachers hadn't been there before. He turned back to the game as the pitcher managed to strike the batter out.

 

He wasn't deaf, nor was he stupid. He caught the occasional words filtering from the bleachers and saw the whispered conversations. He could imagine what they were saying.  _ Did you hear what happened to his kid? I heard they split. How could you stay with him after that? I'd kill myself if that ever happened to me. _

 

He took a steadying breath and twisted the ball in his hands. “That's it, Aiden! Nice catch!”

 

“Coach?” a voice asked from the bench. “I'm hungry.”

 

“We're nearly finished, kid.”

 

“Can I have some of the snacks?”

 

Jack's heart dropped, “Snacks?”

 

“The snacks. For after the game.”

 

“Um...”

 

“The coach always brings snacks.”

 

That would have been helpful to know – or at least remember – earlier. He ran through who he knew, if anyone was local enough and could bring anything over. Maybe the other coach could share? He probably remembered snacks. “Let's finish the game first, eh?” He stepped away from the dugout but caught the little pout from the child.  _ Well done, Jack. Excellent work. _

 

He felt like shit and the game steadily went down hill. The kids were tiring and getting disheartened by the marginally better other team scoring a few runs. When the game was finally called and the kids slumped over, already reeling from the loss and about to be even more disappointed by the lack of snacks, Jack was beginning to worry about what to do.

 

“C'mon in, huddle up, campers. Ignore what that scoreboard says, okay? For a first game with only a few days training? You guys did great! Emily, great throwing, Aiden great catch, Zack that was a great hit. That's what matters. We can get there. Now, um, about the snacks-”

 

“Dig in, kids!” Jack spun to the new voice as the park's fence was opened and delivery guy with a box of hot dogs and a bag of what looked like apples was lead through by a blonde. “Snacks have arrived.”

 

The kids gave an excited cheer and ran over, Emily and Mike (Matt?) hugging the woman and launching at the suddenly scared delivery kid who put the bag and box on the bench and backed away.

 

Jack was dumbfounded and looked between the kids and the blonde with a stunned silence.

 

“Don't forget to thank Coach,” she said, flashing him a smile. When he began to protest the accolade, he caught the smallest of shakes of her head, telling him to take the chorus of thanks from the kids. He would have maybe mouthed a thanks if he could formulate a sentence, but he was too busy staring at her. Short blonde hair, bright and big blue eyes, a wide smile that would stop anyone in their tracks. How had she known he had forgotten snacks? How was she  _ real _ ? She took a hotdog from the box, a little paper tray beneath the bun and passed it to him with the ketchup in her other hand.

 

“Thank you,” Jack laughed to himself, taking the proffered snack, applying a liberal zigzag of ketchup and reaching for the mustard bottle. “You really saved the day.”

 

She shrugged, taking the mustard for her own, “Just a few hotdogs and fruit.” She didn't feel the need to mention that she had overheard the other parents gossiping about him, talking incessantly about how 'downhill' he had gone since the divorce, how he barely left his house etc She had caught the kid asking for a snack and recognised the look of fear on the coach's face. A quick call to a friend in O'Malley's a few blocks away and she had been able to hook him up.

 

“You're Emily and Matt's Mom, right?” he took a punt on the name and devoured half the hotdog in one bite. 

 

“ _ Aunt _ . Aunt. Important distinction.” She held out her hand with a smirk, “Sam Carter.”

 

“Noted,” he smiled. “Jack O'Neill.”

 

“Oh I know.”

 

Jack raised an eyebrow, expecting to have been known as her niece and nephew's baseball coach but the twinkle in her eye suggested something else.

 

“278 home runs, three in the world series and two in game four alone.”

 

“Ah, that,” he smiled. “Not many women remember those stats.”

 

“Just because my reproductive organs are on the inside, doesn't mean I'm not a baseball nerd,” she took a bite as her lips tilted into a smirk, and he felt himself mirroring it.

 

“I have nothing against women baseball nerds. I like women. I've just got a little problem with those stats.”

 

“Wish you'd done more?”

 

“Wish I'd kept an eye on my knees more.”

 

“Ah,” she balled up the paper tray and tossed it into the box while he bade goodbyes and 'good games' to the kids who began to get called on by parents in the parking lot. Sam gave hugs to her niece and nephew and a wave to her brother who was collecting them. “See you at the weekend.”

 

“They're good kids.” Jack nodded towards them as they ran over the park, picking up apple cores and tossing a half eaten hotdog towards Thor. “Emily's got a great arm on her. How much do I owe you?”

 

“Forget about it.”

 

“No, come on,” he grabbed the box by the handles and started towards his truck.

 

She picked up the basket of balls and a few bats and followed him to his car. “Call it an investment in the kids' future careers.”

 

Jack laughed. “So you from around here?”

 

“Moved around a lot as a kid but been stationed here a few years. I'm in the Air Force, based at Cheyenne Mountain.”

 

“Get out, for real?”

 

“For real. Major Doctor Samantha Carter, United States Air Force.”

 

“Doctor?”

 

“Astrophysics.”

 

He suddenly felt extremely inadequate. And turned on. “Wow.”

 

“What are you doing at the Mountain?”

 

“Deep Space Radar Telemetry.”

 

“I know those words but no idea what that means. You seen action?”

 

She nodded, leaning against the gate to keep it open while he jogged back through for the rest of the equipment and, lastly, Thor. “In the Gulf, yeah. Hi buddy!” she crouched down to Thor's level, gaining a few exploratory sniffs before allowing a head rub. “Aren't you handsome?”

 

Jack leant against the railing, allowing Thor and Sam to become acquainted, which both seemed to be enjoying. Though he had a thousand questions for her about the Air Force, he took the short answers to mean she couldn't elaborate and so dropped the questioning. “This is Thor. We were going to go for a drink if you're free?” Why did he feel like his hands were shaking?

 

“I can't, but thanks. Got my bike and I need to go meet my, er, fiancé.”

 

Of course she was engaged. A woman like that wouldn't have been single for long, ever. His heart had dropped, “Right, of course.”

 

“You'll probably know him actually,” she climbed to her feet, her hand still buried in Thor's pelt. “Pete Shanahan? He coaches the Copperheads across town.”

 

He searched his memory, he hadn't really spoken to the other coaches yet apart from Cam Mitchell at the induction and the game's opposing coach Daniel Jackson. Pete...

 

“He thinks of himself as a joker,” she almost blushed.

 

“Wait, blond?” Surely not the guy cracking the jokes at the induction? The appeasing smiles around the table?

 

“That's him.”

 

“...He seems a good guy.”

 

“He's a cop.” She seemed surprised she had said that her brow knotting and smile turning forced, as if questioning her need to add Pete's occupation. “Anyway, I'd better get going. See you next game?”

 

“We'll be there,” he patted Thor's head.

 

“See you then.”

 

“Bye, Carter.” She turned and smiled and Jack found himself blowing out a breath. He watched as she slid on her helmet and straddled the bike – a mint condition deep red Indian – and revved the engine. Jack's hand found Thor's head, telling him, “Now, that's a woman, Thor.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind I'm British and a bloody good chunk of my baseball knowledge comes from watching 'A League of Their Own' countless times from the age of 6 and 90s kids movies ;)

Jack answered the knock at his door to find: “Teal'c!”

 

“O'Neill,” he raised the corners of his lips in a trademark controlled smile. It had been a good year, if not more since the ex-teammates had seen each other, Teal'c being one of the few who stood by him after everything with Charlie. Jack stepped to the side and invited him down the steps to the living room.

 

“Thanks for doing this, buddy. I think you'll get a kick out of it,” he handed him a bottle of water while he twisted the cap off his own beer. Jack had called him to see if he might be interested in the assistant coach role, having joined the major leagues on an immigration visa during Jack's tenure and continuing to play after his knees ended his ended his playing years. Teal'c had done a few years in the coaching staff alongside him and was the loudest voice of support in the period after Charlie had died, cementing a life-long friendship.

 

“They are what age?”

 

“Youngest is eight, oldest is eleven. Mix of girls and boys.”

 

“Are they trained in the sport?”

 

“Mostly. Sorta. Getting there.”

 

“How many teams in the league?”

 

“Eight. We're the Colorado Springs Stargates. Go team.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

Jack introduced the team to Teal'c the next day, a few of the kids recognising the unforgettable man from his pro years, and a few finding him intimidating due to height and muscles upon muscles. Though he kept his features schooled, the kids soon warmed to him and asked him a thousand questions about where he was from (“A small village far away”), what the Coach was like when he played (“A formidable teammate and opponent”) and if he had any children (“a son.”)

 

Sam warmed to him quickly also, a gentle protective presence that she trusted inherently with her niece and nephew. She was also just as starstruck with him as she had been with Jack. “Go on,” Jack had smiled.

 

“What?”

 

“Do your baseball technobabble. I know you know his stats.”

 

She narrowed her eyes before launching into what she was holding back, “506 home runs, six in a World Series and .293 batting average across his career.”

 

“That is most impressive, Samantha Carter.”

 

She gave the non-six year version of sticking out her tongue to Jack, whose eyes twinkled in lieu of a smirk.

 

Their first game with Teal'c as assistant coach was a loss but a respectable defeat. He had focused on training the kids at batting and had got each kid to hit the ball at least once throughout the game, though the hit may not have necessarily gone anywhere helpful. Though understandably upset by another defeat, the team were ecstatic to have upped their batting averages and narrowed in on a win. “What do need? Jack had asked when the team huddled up.

 

“Runs and teamwork!”

 

“Right! What did we have?”

 

“Runs and teamwork!”

 

“That's right! Now go home and practice tomorrow. Anyone who's late does a lap of the park!”

 

\--

The summer air almost chilled her as it whipped through her open leather jacket, the practically empty roads allowing her to really open up the engine. It had been a while she had been able to, and she cold feel the tension from her shoulders ease away as she switched through the gear.

The next lights flicked to green, the ones after too, and she smiled at her luck. She turned to pass the baseball diamond and she was curious to see headlights shining through the chain link fence and illuminating a sole figure and running dog. She slowed when she recognised Jack's truck and pulled into the parking lot.

 

In the truck's lamps, Jack dropped a baseball into the basket and leant against the bat, its tip pressing into the dirt. Thor shot across the length of the park from the far outfield and was excitedly whining at the gate, his tail wagging from side-to-side.

 

“Hey buddy,” she smiled, ruffling his fur when she managed to ease him from the gate. “Hey coach.”

 

“Carter. What brings you here?”

 

She shrugged crossing over to him with Thor pressed tight to her leg. “Just clocking off. Saw the lights.” She tucked one hand into the back pocket of her jeans, the other was buried deep in Thor's pelt. Now she was closer, she could see the dark look in his eyes. Maybe it was just the low light, but it seemed more and it also seemed like he didn't want to talk it so she didn't push. “Getting some practice in?”

 

“Couldn't sleep.”

 

She wasn't expecting the honesty.

 

He swooped to collect a ball, tossed it in the air and hit it clear across the park. Thor took off after it at full speed.

 

“Fancy a pitcher?”

 

He looked over his shoulder, “You any good?”

 

She took the basket and glove and crossed to the mound. Thor bounded over, dropped the retrieved ball at her feet and lowered into a ready position.

 

Sam turned to her side and lined up her shot, her lips tilting into the faintest of smirks. Jack twisted his grip on the bat. Curling her leg up, she sent a perfect and powerful ball down to Jack who hit it with professional precision into the outfield, for which Thor bounded away.

 

“That's a hell of an arm, Carter.”

 

She smiled, ducking for another ball.

 

She pitched a few more, he hit and she could see the tension dissipate from him as hers had with her bike ride. “Feel good?”

 

“It won't tomorrow.”

 

She laughed, her neither probably. Taking the ball from Thor's mouth, she pitched and again Thor ran off.

 

“It's Charlie's birthday.”

 

He said it so calmly and matter-of-factly that it took her a beat to realise who Charlie was. She didn't want to give him pity, no matter how much she felt it. “How old?”

 

“Nine.”

 

She pitched, he hit, Thor ran.

 

“He loved baseball?”

 

“Oh yeah. Eat, sleep, breathe. He grew up in the locker room, played constantly. Always had a baseball in his hand.”

 

Pitch, hit, run.

 

“What was his position?”

 

“Shortstop.”

 

“Not star hitter?”

 

“He could hit and pitch, but he loved shortstop.”

 

“An all-rounder.”

 

Pitch, hit, run.

 

“I had a ball on the in the bedroom, signed by Billy Williams.” He said after a while. “He was with the-”

 

“-Cubbies.”

 

“Right. Charlie took it to show his friend and they were playing around in front of the house. The other kid threw it to Charlie and -” he hit Sam's pitch with every ounce of power his aching muscles had left, “-it went onto the street. Charlie went after it.”

 

He paused and Sam pitched for him, her mind filling in the blank.

 

“I didn't see him.” He saw the whites of his eyes, Charlie flying through the air, hitting the windscreen with a sickening thud. Slamming breaks, running to him, cradling him. Sara running out, calling for him, helping to get him into the car. The blood-

 

He threw the baseball bat and stalked to the fence, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes and fingers through his hair. He kept walking until he got to the truck and lowered the tailgate so he could sit.

 

Thor trotted past Sam with his head low and whined at the gate to be let through. She twisted the ball in her hands and slowly left the mound, uttering soft assurances to the dog as she eased open the gate. He twisted his way through at the smallest opening and reared up at Jack's legs, rubbing his face on Jack's chest and face. “Hey, bud...”

 

Sam sat next to him but not before Thor jumped up and settled behind them both, his head on the bed of the truck between the two of them. They both buried their fingers in the thick pelt, neither saying anything, but both comfortable. Sam's eyes travelled to the night sky, trying to pick out the known constellations despite the street lights. The view was better from the top of Cheyenne Mountain or Pikes Peak. “Canis Major,” she eventually said, pointing.

 

He looked up.

 

“Legend has it, it was named after Zeus's dog Laelaps. He was so fast he elevated to the skies.”

 

“And that he was chasing Taurus the bull,” Jack looked over, trying to find the correct stars.”

 

“You know stars?”

 

“I have a telescope on my roof.”

 

“Really?”

 

“The roof access was one of the main selling points for the house. I imagine you've seen more than me though.”

 

Her eyes narrowed in a question.

 

“Deep Space Radar Telemetry?”

 

“Ah, right. Yeah.”

 

He smiled to himself at how bad of a liar she was. He respected her enough to not push at what was obviously a cover story for some top secret military operation, but his curiosity was certainly peaked. “Leo,” he pointed.

 

“Little Dipper.”

 

“That's the future there. You should get reassigned to NASA, go find us another planet to inhabit after we drain this one.” She stayed quiet, her head tipped back to the sky. Her sharp jawline lead to the taut column of her neck and he got the very real urge to press his lips to it, find her pulse point and kiss it. It had been so long since he had been able to touch someone like that, to confirm life and desire with gentle, teasing touches. “You should come over sometime, see my set up.”

 

“That sounds nice.”

 

She smiled, her head ducking slightly but still looking to the sky as her fingers threaded through Thor's fur. Jack's hand absently found hers on the dog's head and neither moved away,

 

They only broke apart from Thor got impatient for strokes and scratches and not just hands still on his head. She smiled down to him, rubbing behind his ear before jumping off the tailgate. “I should go.”

 

Jack nodded, coming to his feet also.

 

“Can I just...” she tried to find the words, before settling on “C'mere,” and pulling him into a hug. Her arms wrapped around his neck while his circled her waist, his nose buried into the crook of her neck.

 

He fought the earlier urge to place his lips to her skin, settling instead for breathing in the soapy scent of recently washed hair, of the supple leather jacket and her perfume. She swayed slightly and the gentle rocking and soft but strong body holding him – at her request – quietened nerves and had a long exhale flutter across her skin. He thought her felt her shudder, but she began to move out of his arms before he could be sure.

 

“I'll see you tomorrow,” she smiled, a faint blush colouring her skin in the streetlamps. “Big game.”

 

“Tomorrow, right.”

 

“Night, Coach.

 

“Night, Carter.”

 

–

 

The next day saw the team gathering in a park across town for their latest game. Thor was tied to the fence near the dugout, a water bowl and big bone to keep him occupied though Emily Carter was currently sat on the ground next him, with his head on her lap while she waited for her turn.

 

Jack lifted his ball cap to scratch his head and regretted the action as he got a shooting pain through the muscles of his back. “ _Shh-”_ he remembered where he was “-...oot.” His attempt to conceal his cuss failed however, if the quiet giggles from the kids on the bench were anything to go by.

 

“Are you okay, O'Neill?”

 

“All good, T.”

 

“You seem to be in pain.”

 

“Just overdid it a bit yesterday, nothing to worry about.”

 

Teal'c didn't seem convinced but said no more on the subject. “I will prepare Emily Carter for her turn at bat.”

 

“Good idea, T. Thanks.”

 

Teal'c gave a stoic nod and moved towards the other side of the bench. Jack watched him go until he heard the familiar roar of a motorbike and the maroon Indian rode past towards the parking lot. He followed its progress with a smile, watching Sam park and climb from the engine in tight blue jeans and the leather jacket she wore the night before. His chest swelled and he tampered down the memories of holding her against his body, his nose in her neck, his hands on the base of her back.

 

She saw him looking and gave a small wave as she ruffled the helmet shape from her short hair. He tipped his hat to her and she ducked her head to hide the grin, his chest swelling further. _You are screwed, O'Neill._

 

He turned back to the game and hollered for Zack to go to bat, with Emily next.

 

“Hey Coach.”

 

He turned to see Sam on the other side of the chain link fence beside the dugout. “Wasn't sure you would make it today.”

 

“Got out later than planned, but didn't want to miss it.”

 

“Emily's up next.”

 

She looked over to where she was being coached by Teal'c and gave a thumbs up to her young Niece. “What's the score?”

 

“3-3.”

 

“Ooo...”

 

“I'm quietly optimistic.”

 

She smiled and thankfully lowered her voice before asking, “How do you feel?”

 

“I'm fine.”

 

“Here,” she fed a blister pack of painkillers through the void in the fence. “Don't be a hero.”

 

“Oh, I'm certainly not that.”

 

She nudged the tablets further through the gap.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Anytime. Got snacks?”

 

“Got snacks.”

 

“I'll be on the bleachers. Kill 'em, Em!”

 

Emily grinned beneath her helmet and hit another ball back to Teal'c.

 

Jack popped two of the pills from the pack and chewed them before taking a gulp of water. “That's it, Zack, wait for the ball.” His eyes drifted to her again, climbing up the seats, popping her helmet next to her and clapping her hands as Zack connected with the ball, sending it far down the field and bringing two of his team home.

 

“Let's go, Em!” he called, gesturing for Emily to head to the plate. “Get our guys back!”

 

Emily got into position on the plate, her hands gripping the bat perfectly and looking steely eyed down to the pitcher. She swung for the first ball but missed, the catcher sending it back to the bound. “That's alright, Em! Next one is yours!” Second pitch and again it went straight into the catcher's mitt. Jack swallowed, trying to relax his tensed back. “Relax, don't worry! You got this!”

 

The third pitch and _thwack!_ Not only did she connect but she sent it straight out of the park for a game winning home run. The Stargates' bench erupted with whoops and hollars, as did the bench with Sam's arms aloft and cheering for her niece, her eyes scanning and connecting Jack's in jubilation. When Emily had rounded third base, Jack, Teal'c and the rest of the team were waiting for her, with high-fives all around and back pats all around for a game well won. “Alright, team! What do we need?”

 

“Runs and teamwork!”

 

“What did we have?”

 

“Runs and teamwork!” the kids cheered, continuing their celebrations until Jack and the opposing coach – Paul Davies – met in the middle of the diamond to shake hands, instructing the two teams to do so also. _Sportsmanship is just as important,_ Jack remembered his Grandpa saying.

 

He jogged back to the bench and brought out the coolers of sandwiches, fruit and water and told the kids to dig in before heading for their parents. Sam came through the gate and made a beeline towards Matt and Emily, high-fives, hugs and congratulations extended to the whole team. “Congratulations,” she grinned to Jack.

 

Her grin was infectious, “I had very little to do with it.”

 

“Sure. Teal'c!” She threw her arms around him in a good natured hug and Jack couldn't help but feel jealous. Their hug yesterday had been just as illicit as it was appreciated. She was engaged to another coach and her fraternising with the enemy every game day must be bad enough, he realised, without adding easily misconstrued hugs and public displays of friendship to the mix. He took the proffered high five and would have to be happy with it.

 

The drive back across town with Teal'c in the passenger seat, Thor in the back and the equipment rattling around the truck's bed was a happy silence. They had won a game. The Colorado Springs Stargates were game winners. Yes, it was just one game out of the season so far, but Jack couldn't have been happier.

 

“You like Major Carter.”

 

Jack looked over and back to road, confused where the subject had come from, “Sure. She's great.”

 

“O'Neill...”

 

He sighed, his happiness beginning to falter. “She's engaged, T. To one of the other coaches in fact, I'm sure there are rules against that sort of thing, never mind moral ones”

 

Teal'c was quiet for a beat. “An engagement is a promise for commitment and a promise is much easier, fairer and cheaper to break than an unhappy marriage.” Teal'c's eyes darkened as if he was speaking from personal experience.

 

Jack's hands twisted around wheel, his jaw tightening. “Why would she want me? She's intelligent, gorgeous, funny, sexy as all hell. Why would she want an old, washed-up ballplayer with bad knees and could rattle with how many pills he takes? She could have anyone...”

 

“And she appears to have chosen you.”

 

Jack tried to take that in, remember certain moments, imagine them together. Eventually she shook his head, “No. She's chosen Pete.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

The next week's game got rained out, a few of the practices too. It was suddenly strange to be back in his house on a Wednesday afternoon, just Jack and Thor and nothing to do. Nothing on TV seemed to suit and he had checked all the equipment, oiled all the gloves and was resigned to sitting on the couch. Even Thor seemed antsy.

 

He flicked through the TV, the bad weather affecting some channels, and settled on a replay of a recent College football game – US Air Force Falcons vs Ohio State. His mind drifted, understandably, to Sam. Imagined her in her Dress Blues, the picture perfect Major with a straight back and sparkling blue eyes.

 

God, she had amazing eyes. And smile. And everything.

 

It was easy to imagine her like that, but his mind ran through the different scenarios; Sam in a cockpit, Sam at war, Sam kicking ass. He hadn't seen her in a situation that spoke to that side of her, but yeah, he could see it. She seemed like the kind who could do anything.

 

He carded his fingers through Thor's fur as he put her in all kinds of other situations; ones with just him and no clothing, that grin looking down at him as she got her pleasure, those eyes teasing as much as her hands or mouth or-

 

He cleared his throat, shifted in his seat and apologised to the dog who was roused from a nap. He focussed on the game and cleared that line of thought from his brain as best as he could.  _ She chose Pete. Pete. Sam and Pete. For cryin'- _

 

Regardless, it felt like it was going to be a long week without seeing her.

 

It was longer than a week, it turned out. Sam missed their next game too, a relayed message from Emily comprising, “Aunt Sam told me to tell you she's working so can't come. She's gone somewhere...or something. I don't know. She does it a lot.”

 

Jack ruffled her hair and sent her out to warm up, wondering what travel was called for with Deep Space Radar Telemetry, further confirming his theory of a somewhat weak code. He couldn't deny the disappointment he felt.

 

“O'Neill,” he saw Teal'c at his side with a proffered clip board and knowing eyebrow raise.

 

He snatched the clipboard, “Stop it.”

 

“Indeed,” he muttered, returning to coaching the batters.

 

Jack took a breath, it exhaled with more of a sigh than he meant it to, and checked the line up on the paper.

 

–

 

“I'll be back in ten,” Jack told Thor, rolling up his window a little bit as he parked at the supermarket. “You want talk radio or country music?” Thor's head twisted to the side, his ears turning. “You're right, talk radio gets you all riled up. Country it is.”

 

With a scritch to his head, Jack left Thor with the windows cracked and the twang of a southern accent filtering in through the speakers. The summer storm had passed thankfully, and it looked like the rest of the season would be warm and dry, which Jack felt meant he had to stock up on ice pops for the kids. He also needed snacks and had found himself doing online searches for good options that they would like.

 

He grabbed a cart and was in the beer aisle when he recognised a blonde head perusing the wine options. “Carter?”

 

She turned to his voice and smiled warmly, “Coach, hi.”

 

“Carter, what the hell happened?” She had her left arm in a sling and her face was varying shades of purple and blue. She had tried to cover some of the bruises with make-up but he could see the hues beneath it.

 

“Work thing, I'm fine.”

 

“You got beat up because of radars?” He was unconvinced and concerned

 

She smiled again, “Something like that. Honestly, I'm fine.” She looked down, her smile tilting into a smirk as his eyes followed hers, realising then that he had not only abandoned the cart but had taken hold of both of her arms. He dropped his hands to his side, and took a step back. “Heard the game went well.”

 

“Yeah, second win of the season.”

 

“On course for a third this week?”

 

“That's the plan. Teal'c had to go back home though, so he's missing the next game.”

 

“Everything okay?”

 

“Something to do with his kid and the step dad. They can get... heated, so I might fly out there too if needed.”

 

“You're a good friend.”

 

“He's been good to me, it's the least I can do.” A thought dawned on him, “What are doing tomorrow?”

 

“Tomorrow?”

 

“I organised to take the kids for pizza to celebrate the wins but I was planning on having Teal'c to help wrangle the little buggers. Are you free maybe?” He gestured to the sling, assuming she was on medical leave.

 

She faltered with her answer, obviously having a second thought about what seemed to be an immediate yes. “Um, yes. Yes, sure. I can do tomorrow.”

 

“Yeah? I mean, if you have something else on-”

 

“No, I'm not allowed on base right now anyway,” she gingerly moved her arm in the sling. “I can almost guarantee Doctor Fraiser would rather me go for pizza than go to the Mountain.”

 

“Who's going for pizza?”

 

Jack turned to find the blond he vaguely recognised from Hammond's induction meeting coming towards them with a full cart.

 

“Pete, you know Jack O'Neill?”

 

“Right!” Pete grinned, it not quite reaching his eyes. “The Stargates' coach.”

 

Jack held his hand out, “Pete.”

 

Pete shook the outstretched hand and stood at Sam's side, recognising the pained look on her face. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

 

“What? No! Of course not.”

 

Jack's jaw dropped before slamming shut and tensing. She was black and blue and in the fucking Air Force but Pete thought  _ he _ would hurt her? The distrust he already had for the other man – who smiled that much anyway? - was solidified that little bit more. “I was inviting her to dinner tomorrow with the kids,” he tried to keep his voice unaffected but he could tell he had bitten that out. He looked to Sam, “I know Matt and Emily will get a kick out of it.”

 

She smiled at the mention of her niece and nephew, “That's true. What time?”

 

“After practice. Say 5? Can you drive?”

 

“I can drive you,” Pete interjected.

 

She put her hand on his arm, “You'll be at practice too. I can get a cab.”

 

“I could come get you,” Jack offered, ensuring his eyes were solely on Sam; he didn't want it to look like he was asking permission from her fiancé. Especially when he thought the fiancé as a bit of a dick.

 

“That would be great, actually.”

 

“I'll pile the kids into the minivan and we'll a detour past yours.”

 

“The minivan? I was half expecting you to just have them all in the back of your truck.”

 

“Thor gets very territorial,” He shook his head with a laugh. “My buddy has a minivan he's going to let me borrow.”

 

Pete looked between the two, watching their interaction, before turning to Sam, “Hey, we should get you back. You're due some more pills.”

 

Jack saw her jaw tense and the fight to keep annoyance off her face. “Right. Yes. I'll see you tomorrow, Coach.”

 

“Carter,” he smiled lightly. “Pete.”

 

“Good luck for the rest of the season, Jack.”

 

“Yeah, you too.”

 

Sam gave a small wave and turned with Pete, walking the rest of the aisle and out of view. Jack sighed, scratched the back of his neck and went in search of whisky.

 

–

 

Jack's energy through the next day's practice was  _ high _ . He even found himself running laps of the diamond with the kids in warm up. He knew he should be questioning why but he knew really and another lap would distract him and it wouldn't hurt.

 

The kids were sad that Teal'c wasn't joining them, but his absence wasn't going to ruin their pizza party and they all happily, excitedly and loudly piled into the minivan at the end of the session. As soon as Jack pulled the van to a stop outside Sam's house, the front door was already opening and she was in the doorway. He jogged around and held the little gate open for her, noticing she had been able to hide the majority of the bruises under a layer of make-up more successfully this time, likely for the kids' benefit.

 

The open window of the van carried a little conversation from the back seat out to him, with one of the boys scoffing at Jack's chivalry of opening the gate.

 

“ _ Because she's got a sore arm, stupid.” _

 

“ _ She has another arm!” _

 

“ _ He's being ROMANTIC. You wouldn't understand.” _

 

“ _ What do you know about being ROMANTIC?” _

 

“ _ I know mo-” _

 

“Hey everyone!” Sam grinned, climbing somewhat awkwardly into the front seat.

 

He waited for her to sit comfortably before leaning his head into the van beside her and looking to the kids. “Everyone okay back there?”

 

“Yes, Coach,” came the varied reply from all but two kids who were apparently not talking to each other. Jack laughed and silently offered to help Sam with the seat belt but she shook her head with a smile, reaching over to grab the belt and secure it.

 

Jogging back around to the drivers side, he sat in and hollered to the back, “So, pizza?”

 

Whoops of delight sounded as Jack pulled into traffic and headed to the restaurant. “You doing okay?”

 

“I'm fine. I mentioned today to the base doctor and I was right, she fully endorsed medicinal pizza. Though was a bit wary about the twelve kids.”

 

“They'll be asleep as soon as they get some slices in them and the soda's worn off.”

 

“You can carry them back to the van.”

 

“Plan,” he stole a look to her and back to the road.

 

“Coach? Can you put some music on?”

 

“I think you'll find music is playing,” he said into the rear view mirror.

 

“No,  _ better _ music.”

 

“Was the music you want to play released after 1983?”

 

“...huh?”

 

He was already smiling at the confused and exasperated look on the kid's face when he realised Sam was giggling and grasping at her side. He recognised the move as an attempt to protect a broken or bruised rib – he'd done it enough times himself – and pointed a finger towards her, “No giggling.”

 

“Sorry, Coach,  _ ah...”  _ She continued to giggle, gripping tighter to her side.

 

He offered her a hand to get from the van when they got to their destination, and then slid the back door open and unleashed the kids onto the hopefully prepared restaurant. It was a whirlwind of calls and pleads and apologies to a few other diners to get the kids all situated on the long table designated for them. Three large pizzas were placed in the centre of the table and the kids tucked in while Jack and Sam sat off to the side in a booth where they could still keep an eye on the team.

 

“Cheers,” he blew out a breath and clinked his soda with Sam's. He forgot quite how much work wrangling kids could be in public, no matter how 'mostly good' the kids were.

 

“They'll be asleep soon, right?”

 

“I will be, don't know about them.”

 

She ducked her head to hide her laugh, thanking the waiter as a medium pepperoni pizza (with extra pepperoni) was slid onto their table.

 

“Ladies firs-  _ Aiden,  _ don't throw spit balls.”

 

“It was cheese.”

 

“Don't throw spit balls or cheese or anything, okay?”

 

“Yes, coach.”

 

Jack rolled his eyes as Sam smiled, managing valiantly with one hand to take a bite into the floppy, cheesy end of her slice.

 

“So, Coach, what made you take on the burgeoning careers of twelve intrepid little ballplayers?”

 

He chewed on his slice, “George Hammond and boredom.”

 

“Retirement not what you were expecting?”

 

He blew out a breath – nothing in his life currently was what he had been expecting.

 

“Right,” Sam looked sheepishly to her plate, folding the slice again to bring it to her mouth.

 

“It's a cliché, but it's the best thing I ever did.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Well, maybe not  _ ever _ , but it was good decision.” He took a swig of his soda, a pointed stare to the kids table to stop a napkin fight. “So, can I ask you a question?”

 

“You can ask, might not answer...”

 

“Why do Matt and Emily play for the Stargates and not Pete's team?”

 

Sam wiped at her lips, “Long story. My brother – their Dad – and I didn't talk for a while. He fell out with our Dad about the Air Force and-” she waved her hand, gesturing that it wasn't something she needed to get into. “Anyway, last year, Dad got sick. Cancer.”

 

“I'm so sorry, Carter.”

 

“He's doing well, an experimental treatment worked. And it got him and Mark to make up, which got Mark talking to me again because I apparently took Dad's side.” She waved her hand again, gesturing to that long story. “The kids hadn't met Pete before and, well, they didn't really take to him. Still haven't, really. I missed out on so much of their lives that I said I was not going to force them to play on my boyfriend's team just to save face with him. So they joined the Stargates and Pete got the Copperheads.”

 

“Good for me,” he smiled, raising his glass to her.

 

“It's not that Pete's a bad coach, or a bad guy but...they haven't spent a lot of time with him yet. To get to know him. ”

 

Who was she trying to convince? “He must be worth it if you're going to marry him.”

 

She scoffed, “Yeah.”

 

“So you got the big day planned? The white meringue dress, the vomit green bridesmaid dresses?” He was loathed to ask but the masochist in him enquired. 

 

She pinched a bit of pepperoni off another slice and grinned into her bite. “Not yet. Pete's dealing with most of the finer details.” 

 

“You don't have your dress yet?”

 

“Nope. Between my hours at the mountain and making up for lost time with those two,” she hooked a thumb towards the team table, “Barely had chance.”

 

“That's understandable,” he slid another slice to his plate.

 

“So, c’mon, what's the big leagues like? What’s the wildest thing that happened in the locker rooms?” 

 

He laughed a little at the question before delving into the stories of his past life. Some he was contracted to never speak of, which she accepted though Jack could see the sparkle of curiosity in her eyes. If anyone knew of classified information, she sure did. 

 

She laughed along with his stories, asked follow up questions and added a few ‘I remember that game!’ until their pizza was gone and they practically forgot they had a bus load of kids under their charge. 

 

“Aunt Sam? I'm tired.” Emily snuggled into her side, Sam just covering the wince of pain from her bruised ribs as she placed a kiss into her hair. 

 

“We’ll get going now,” Jack offered, signalling for the waiter and the check. With all the kids piled back into the van and detailed directions of how to get to each one’s home from the other’s, they eventually had an empty vehicle save for the driver and ‘Chief Direction Giver’. 

 

Jack killed the engine outside her house, “Thanks for being my wingman today. Wing woman?” 

 

“You're welcome. I had fun.”

 

The early evening pinks and oranges in the summer sky were reflecting off the windows and illuminating her in an ethereal, colourful glow that was mesmerising. Part of him recognised the whole evening as a date, despite the abundance of children, so a very large part of him wanted to walk her to the door and kiss her goodnight. To gently take her injured face into his hands and let his lips promise all the things he wasn't allowed to.

 

Her fingers reached across the bench seat and gingerly laid across his. He took it as permission to entwine his further with hers, taking all of the contact he could get. Her eyes were locked with his; wide, vulnerable, promising. Her tongue darted out, licking across her lips and drawing his eyes to them. His body turned, just a slight, like the pull of sliding his own lips across them was too strong. He wanted her.  _ God,  _ he wanted her. His fingers tightened with hers and-

 

-the gate creakily swung open and Pete was walking towards them. She snatched her fingers away and shakily fought to uncouple her seatbelt. 

 

“Hey!” Pete grinned, opening the car door and leaning in for a kiss. “You survived then?” 

 

“Just about,” Jack said, scratching at the back of his neck. “Wouldn't have done without Carter's help.”

 

Sam's cheeks had coloured, “Oh I'm sure you would have been fine.” She slid from the seat and turned back to him, “See you Wednesday then. Say hi to Teal'c if you speak to him.”

 

Jack nodded, his jaw clenched tight. “I will. Bye Carter, Pete.”

 

Pete gave a wave as Sam closed the door and followed him up the path. Jack had already turned into the traffic when Sam looked back for him. 

 

“Well I hope he didn't drive like that with the kids in there!”

 

\--

 

The game was in full swing and the Stargates were doing well. Two up, the crowd was loud and behind them and Teal’c had managed to come back for the game. He was staying mum about what happened back home but Jack was just happy to have him there. 

 

He nudged up the peak of his cap, scratched his head and turned his face up to the sun. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Sam in the van. About how open and willing she had seemed, how receptive to the advances his mind had concocted her to be if they hadn’t been interrupted. He would have unclicked his seatbelt and slid over to her as much as the seats allowed. He would have turned her face to his, a hand cupping her cheek and swiping a gentle path under her eye while looking into her eyes, asking permission to kiss her. Her hand would slide up his leg, then his chest, around his neck and then and then bringing his lips down to hers. She would-

 

“Hey, Coach.”

 

He looked around to find the woman in question on the other side of the chain link fence behind the dugout. “Hey,” he smiled, handing the clipboard off to Teal’c on his way to her. She had a full face of make-up again, with the bruising beneath turning lighter and yellow as she healed. “Wasn’t sure you’d make it today.”

 

She chewed on her lip, “I took a cab.”

 

“Are you okay?” Something was off. 

 

“I wanted to talk.” Her eyes roved skittishly across the children and nearby bleachers. “Yesterday… Was there something you wanted to say? Or do? Something...neither one of us can admit to because of my fiance and your career?”

 

“Sam…” He threaded his fingers into the wire links of the fence, wishing the barrier wasn’t between them for this conversation.

 

She was trying to say the speech she had obviously prepared but seeing him there, in front of her save for the barrier, and all words were lost. He looked scared, sad, fearful, but also open, wanting and wishing he could just reach through and take her in his arms. She stared at him, wanting the exact same, her darkened blue eyes boring into his with the same intensity. 

 

“I…” 

 

Jack’s eyes closed, stopping her from saying anything more. “I know.” 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

He shook his head, looking to the grass at his sneakers then back at her. His eyes had softened, “This doesn’t have to change anything. We can… leave it in the van.”

 

“You would be okay with that?”

 

No. “Yes.”

 

Her fingers thread into the links next to his, her little finger sliding into the next and over his hand. “Thank you.”

 

He heaved a sigh and managed a little smile while she extracted her fingers and moved to her usual space on the bleachers. 

 

Jack turned back to the game, took his clipboard back and tried to sound enthusiastic in his yell of, “Let's go team!”


	4. Chapter 4

The game was going to be hard. Not least because their opponents were the top of the league while the Stargates ranked second, nor either because the other team had more older kids compared to the Stargates’ average of 9 years old, but mostly because their opponents on that sunny Wednesday afternoon were the Copperheads. Pete Shanahan’s Copperheads.

 

Sam and Pete were already at the park when Jack and Thor arrived. Teal'c was meeting later once he had collected the snacks leaving Jack the task to set up the Stargate dugout and await the team’s arrival. He couldn't help his gaze drifting over to the other side of the park. There was somebody else with them, an older guy who stood next to Sam and even from that distance, Jack could see he thought just as highly of Pete as Jack did. 

 

Thor barked to get Sam’s attention and she looked over, gave a little wave and turned back to the men by her side. Jack nodded back and dropped his face towards the clipboard in his hands, though his eyes were firmly rooted on her. 

 

Pete said something and Jack could hear his laugh straight across the park, he watched as Sam’s shoulders tensed at whatever was said. 

 

Jack was crossing the mound before he even realised his feet were moving. The clipboard had been tossed to the grass and he turned Sam with a hand to her shoulder and kissed her. Right there. He wrapped a hand around her waist and neck and even had the gall to dip her, deepening the kiss in front of what he could only imagine were the shocked faces of her fiance and whoever the older guy was. To his delight, she kissed him back. She brought her hand around his neck and licked across his bottom lip, her tongue-

 

“Hey, Coach.”

 

Jack’s eyes widened and he was brought crashing back to reality so quick his heart was pounding in his chest. His hands tightened around the clipboard and Sam was standing in front of him very much unkissed.

 

“You okay?” She smiled, though Jack could feel the awkwardness coming off her in waves and her eyes were crinkled in concern. 

 

“Fine, sorry, yeah. Miles away.”

 

She gestured to the older gentleman at her side. “Jack O’Neill, Jacob Carter.”

 

“Get out, Sam's Dad? Pleasure to meet you, Sir.”

 

Jacob shook the outstretched hand with vigour, “No, son, the pleasure is mine. Followed your career and was there when you kicked it to the Nationals. That was a  _ good _ day. ”

 

“Oh yeah?” Jack grinned. He looked to Sam who was practically beaming. “That  _ was _ a good day. Shame it didn't reflect when it came to the World Series. ”

 

“You went up against Johnny Gentian, it was never going to end in our favour.”

 

“That's true,” he laughed. “You in town for long?”

 

“Few days. Visiting Sam and the grandkids.”

 

“You've beaten the kids here today but I'm sure they'll be happy to see you. Sticking around for the game?”

 

“That’s the plan.”

 

“Grab a bleacher and I'll send Teal'c over when he gets here with the snacks. He’d love to meet Sam’s pops.” 

 

Sam was grinning, obviously happy to see the kid in her Dad out again. She held out her hand expectantly, “Gimme that gorgeous dog of yours.”

 

He smiled, “Yes, Ma’am.” Said gorgeous dog was practically dancing with excitement at the sight of Sam and pulled on the leash once Jack had unclipped him from the fence. Sam indulged Thor in an all over rub before linking her arm with Jacob’s, bidding a good game and walking to the bleachers. 

 

All under Pete's watchful eye from across the field. Maybe he shouldn't have, but Jack gave him a little salute.

 

As expected, it was a tight game. Though the Copperheads had bigger kids, the Stargates were better trained. With two ex-players as the coaching staff, Jack hoped it would rub off somehow. 

 

The Stargates hit majority of the balls and were able to send them further into the outfield to allow them to run further around the bases. The Copperheads’ kids were quicker on their feet but less disciplined on the ball. 

 

“Hey,” Jack called Emily Carter over. She had her helmet on and bat in her hand ready to go, and already a streak of dirt across her neck and on her trousers. He grinned at her eagerness and ability to always be the first one of the team to be elbow deep in grime. “You okay? Going up against your Aunt's boyfriend?”

 

She looked over to Pete and shrugged, “Sure.”

 

“Yeah? Okay, go get ‘em then, hitter.” He tussled her helmet as she passed and she grinned back at him. She waved to Sam and her Grandpa in the stands and, to the sounds of whoops and cheers from her family and team, took her position at the plate. 

 

The first pitch was too low and Jack beamed at her knowing to not swing. “That's right, Em, choose your pitch.”

 

Second pitch and  _ thwack!  _ The bleachers erupted at the homerun, the bases clearing and the widest grin on Emily's face as she rounded to home. She was easily their best hitter and Jack couldn’t have been happier for her that she managed yet another homer with her grandpa in the stands. And, yes, a part of him was overjoyed it was in the game against Pete too.

 

Emily wasn't the only Stargate to get a homer, two others did also and, early in the game, they had pretty much secured the win. Little Matt Carter was given the task of pitching against the Copperhead’s final pitcher. He had been eagerly practicing all month to maybe get good enough to pitch in a game but he was only small and a bit of stage fright had put him off trying in previous games. But the pressure was off this time and he managed two brilliant strikes before excitement got the better of him and the third pitch was hit behind third base. 

 

His shoulders sagged as he walked from the mound but Jack and Teal'c stepped forward to give him high-fives (that he needed to jump to) and praise a promising future career in pitching. 

 

Jack made sure the kids didn't gloat as the game was called and he bit back his own joy to give his team an appropriate level of praise and congratulate the Copperheads on their victories. 

 

He stole the occasional look to the bleachers to see Sam and Jacob talking to each other, pointing to various kids and, he was sure, to Jack himself. 

 

“Well, what a victory that was,” George Hammond grinned, congratulating Jack and shaking his hand. He had made the trip out to see the two top ranking teams in the division battle it out. 

 

“It was a good game,” Jack replied, diplomatically. Pete was walking over with a face like thunder, until he saw the commissioner, after which he managed a smile.  

 

“Congratulations, Jack.”

 

“Thank you, Pete. You have a great team.”

 

“Considering we don’t have two ex-pro ball players on the coaching staff, we do okay.”

 

“Now, Pete, don't be like that,” Hammond all but laughed. “All of our coaches bring something special to their teams.”

 

He had a retort ready but Sam wound her arm around his back, “Sorry, Pete.  Good game though. Congratulations, Jack.”

 

Jacob shook Jack’s hand, “You and Teal’c have obviously taught them well! Hell, imagine where the Stargates could go under your tutelage!”

 

Pete turned on his heel and harrumphed away.

 

Jacob watched after him and turned back to the group, “Something I said?” There was a hint of a mischievous terrible in his eye.

 

“Not at all, Jacob,” Hammond laughed. “Have you met Teal’c yet? Come with me.”

 

Sam looked between Pete who was nearly at his car and the departing figure of her father. “Well tonight's going to be fun.”

 

“Sorry about that,” Jack smiled.

 

She hooked a thumb over her shoulder towards the parking lot, “I should go him. Congratulations again. The better team won, but don't tell Pete I said that.”

 

\--

 

“Okay, everyone in pairs!” Jack hollered to the team, bringing them in from all corners of the park. “Try those controlled hits we started last week.”

 

“Hey Coach,” Sam's voice called from the gates. 

 

“Teal'c,” he smiled, gesturing to the take over the team while he ran over to Carter. She had a young girl with her who looked shy. “Carter. Who's this?”

 

“This is Cassie. My friend’s little girl.” She had her hands on the youngsters shoulders. 

 

“I'm from Toronto,” she said, matter of factly. 

 

“Oh yeah? I like it up there.”

 

Sam smiled nervously, “She's new in town, thought she could hang out with Emily and Matt after practice of that's okay? I'm taking them all home.”

 

“Sure, yeah.” He looked back to Cassie, “Ever played baseball?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“Want to give it a go?” He called over the park for the Carter kids who came running over to their Aunt. “Hey guys, you want to show Cassie the ropes? She's never played before.” 

 

The three kids ran off after Cassie gave an unsure look to Sam. “It's okay, they're my family. They'll take care of you, won't you guys?”

 

“So, Toronto, eh?” Jack said as they fell into step towards the dugout. 

 

She ducked her head in a smile, “Yep. She's adopted. Only came to town last month.”

 

“Good for your friend.”

 

“Yeah. She’s been through a lot so a bit mistrusting.”

 

“She’s welcome here whenever. Shame the season’s nearly over, but we might have space next year on the team.”

 

She touched Teal’c’s alarm in hello, who nodded in response. “Oh yeah? Sticking around then?” 

 

They leant against the dugout, opposite elbows curled into the painted wood so their bodies faced each other. “I think so. I’m loathe to tell him but George was right, this was good for me.”

 

She lightly touched his arm, a small smile on her lips as she thought about what had happened, what unimaginable pain it must have been. “And all the winning hasn’t hurt, I’m sure.”

 

He shrugged, but she could see the smirk tilting at his lips. 

 

“O’Neill, parents have started to arrive,” Teal’c mentioned and he looked sorry to interrupt. 

 

“Right. Hey, kids! Bring your stuff in and head on home. What do we need?” He shouted as the team started to descend, bats, gloves and helmets ready to be thrown in the general direction of the baskets and bags. 

 

“Runs and teamwork!” 

 

Emily cut away from the other kids and made a beeline to Sam. “Aunt Sam? Can Matty, Cassie and me still play?” 

 

Sam stroked a hand over the little blonde ponytail of her niece, “Course, honey. We can stick around for a while.”

 

“Can we take Thor?”

 

“You'll have to ask Coach.”

 

“Coach? Can we?”

 

“Go ahead, he needs a run out.”

 

The little smile grew exponentially and she jogged over to where the dog was clipped to the fence. 

 

Sam turned to watch her, “Hey Em, I don't know if Cassie is comfortable around dogs. Take it easy, okay?” 

 

Emily nodded and took a firm hold of Thor’s collar as she walked him over to her brother and new friend. Jack and Sam watched cautiously as Cassie backed away and was hesitant to get too close. Jack was ready to run over and give a slow introduction but Emily was already giving the dog instructions and making him do tricks that Cassie giggled at. Eventually, she was confident enough to ruffle his fur and get a licked hand in return, which in turn got more giggles.

 

“All kids should have a dog,” Jack said.

 

“Everyone should have a Thor.”

 

He couldn’t deny that one. The sound a zipper caught his attention and he saw Teal’c collecting and bagging the strewn equipment, “T, head off buddy.”

 

“I have not finished, O’Neill.”

 

“Get an early dart. Say hi to Ry’ac for me.”

 

The muscles at the sides of Teal’c’s cheeks rippled at the mention of his son as he clenched his jaw. “I will. Thank you. Good evening Samantha Carter.”

 

“Bye Teal’c,” she smiled as Teal’c gave a slight bow and turned to leave. “How is it with his kid?” she asked Jack quietly.

 

Jack sighed, “Not great. The Step-Dad’s gone but there’s a lot of tension with the kid. He’s fallen in with a bad crowd, you know how it is.”

 

Sam frowned, “If I can help…”

 

“I’ll tell him. So, Pete forgiven me yet? I gather he’s not my biggest fan.”

 

She grinned, “He’s just a sore loser.”

 

“Pops still around?” 

 

“No, he went back this morning. He loved yesterday though, thank you for that.”

 

“Happy to.” Jack looked out to the kids, cupping a hand over the peak of his cap to see where they were there and if Thor was behaving. And to hopefully make his next question more nonchalant. “How does he feel about the future son-in-law?” 

 

“He, erm...he hasn’t spent a lot of time with him.” 

 

“Oh?”

 

“With the cancer and being away…” she smiled awkwardly. “They’ll be fine though.”

 

“Can I…?”

 

“Can you…?”

 

Jack sighed, wary he was overstepping the mark or returning to a conversation that was left in the van. “Why Pete?”

 

Sam took a breath, “He’s sweet and he loves me.” She picked at the peeling paint on the dugout, “He’s not perfect, but neither am I. I don’t have to lie to him about my job,” her eyes flicked to his and away quickly, “and he gets it. He gets the hours I have to work. Well, mostly. He makes me laugh and watches old movies with me and only complains a little. He's good to me.” 

 

Jack nodded slowly, his heart feeling like it was thickening in his chest. There was nothing he could say to that. 

 

Sam looked her feet before pushing off the dugout, wiping at her elbow and brushing her hands down her jeans. She called for the kids and pointed to the parking lot, a hand curved above her eyes. “See you Wednesday?” 

 

Jack nodded. “You're wrong, y’know?” he said when she was a few steps away. “You  _ are _ perfect.”

 

She bit her lips together as her chest rose in a deep breath. 

 

“See you Wednesday


	5. Chapter 5

He jostled Emily from his lap when he heard Sam's voice. She sleepily jumped down and took his hand, sticking close to him. He swiped a hand over her hair and squeezed her hand, making sure she knew he was there. 

 

“Carter,” he croaked when they got to the doorway. She was leaning against the nurse's station,  her hands flat on the surface and a fiery look on her face. She turned to him and he saw her eyes were wide in fear and shock. He decided he looked as bad as he felt.

 

Emily ran into her arms as soon as she was near, holding tight around Sam's midriff while Sam splayed her hand over her back and her hair. She whispered something to her young niece, walking awkwardly towards the room, meandering between the passing nurses in brightly coloured, cartoon scrubs. Jack stepped to the side, answering her silent question of 'where is he?'.

 

She let out a small gasp at the sight of little Matthew, dwarfed in the large hospital bed with tubes, wires and beeps all around him. “Oh, Matty...” She walked with Emily still attached to the bedside and perched on the end, bringing Emily up to sit on her lap.

 

He was warm to her touch – too warm – and the little flop of blonde hair on his forehead was greasy with old sweat when she brushed it from his eyes. She caressed his cheek, thinking how small he suddenly looked again, and cast a somewhat knowledgeable eye over the beeping monitors. As satisfied as she could be with the displayed figures, she turned her attention to Emily. “Are you okay?”

 

She nodded slowly, as if stuck between shock and sleepy. Her eyes were on Matt’s pale skin,  “Jack drove really fast.”

 

Her eyes flicked to Jack, her features softening and a small smile tilting her lips. “He did?”

 

“Mmhmm.”

 

“Well, that's lucky because Matty might have been much sicker if he hadn't.” She kept eye contact with him, saying the words to him more than Emily. 

 

Emily nodded again and laid her head on Sam’s chest, her fingers on her lips in a comfort move she had done as a child. “Where's my Mom and Dad?”

 

“They're on their way back, sweetie. Coming as fast as they can.”

 

Emily seemed satisfied with that as Sam placed a kiss into her hair. Sam looked back to Jack then and properly assessed the pallor and darkened eyes. “What happened?”

 

Jack sat down on the plastic bucket seat opposite the bed and swiped a hand over the back of his neck. He blew out a breath before he began, “He came and sat in the dugout half way through practice and said he had a stomach ache. I asked if he was hungry or felt sick or had been -  I don't know - hit by a ball or something. He said he no to everything so I figured it might have just been because his Mom and Dad were away. I left him there for a bit, thinking he'd just get bored or maybe puke.” 

 

He rubbed his hands down this thighs, “I look over and he's started crying and holding his stomach and looking a bit green so I knew it was something. I got him to his feet and asked him where it hurt and he said here,” Jack laid his hand to the lower side of his stomach. “Alarm bells rang. I asked if I could feel and he let me so I lightly pressed and he just screamed and fell into me.”

 

Emily nodded and Jack gave her a little smile. “I scooped him up and grabbed Em and we drove here.”

 

Sam held out her hand, her fingers finding his and squeezing, “Thank you, Jack.”

 

“Hey, thank the docs, I didn’t do much.” Sam begged to differ. “They got hold of Mark and Laura and they authorised the Appendectomy surgery, so me and Em hung out here waiting for him to come back. Were you at the Mountain?”

 

“Mark managed to get hold of Doctor Weir who pulled me out of an exercise. It took me a little while to get back to the Mountain.” She suddenly remembered she was in her camouflage and muddy boots and kicked out her leg as if proof.. “I came as soon as I could.”

 

“Telemetry seems cool.” 

 

She smiled and looked down to Emily, resting her cheek against her forehead, “Why don’t you go to sleep until your Mom and Dad gets here, hey?”

 

“I don’t want to leave Matty.”

 

Jack leant forward and stroked his hand down her arm, “What if we push some of these chairs together, and I’ll go steal a couple of pillows and we make you a bed right over there? It’ll be like camping.”

 

Emily’s eyes twinkled at Jack’s enthusiasm; making the make-shift bed sound fun. 

 

“Okay, Aunt Sam, you get the chairs, I’ll go get the pillows. If any nurses ask you where I am...you know nothing.” He made a show of sneaking from the room, snaking across the wall and ducking his head into the hallway before risking it further. Emily and Sam giggled at the view, Sam happy to feel the laughter rippling through her niece after the heavy day she’d had. 

“You like Jack, huh?”

 

Emily nodded, “He’s funny.”

 

She kissed her hair again, “C’mon, let get those chairs before he gets back.” With four chairs pushed together against the back wall, two facing each way incase she turned over, Jack snuck back into the room sounding out of breath as if under chase, “I don’t think anyone knows. ...What?”

 

Emily was giggling and poked at the sudden big belly he was sporting. 

 

He rolled up his tee shirt and pulled out a blanket and pillow while Sam grinned. They padded out the bucket seats with the blanket and Emily lay down, Sam draping her camo jacket over her and crouching down. “You comfy?”

 

Emily nodded, “Will you wake me as soon as Mom and Dad get here?”

 

“As soon as they walk through that door. I promise.”

 

Emily closed her eyes and Sam stroked her hand over her hair and down her arm. “Sweet dreams, kiddo.” She let out a breath when she stood up, threading her hands through her own hair. 

 

“You okay?”  he asked.

 

She raised her eyebrows and scoffed. 

 

“C’mere.”

 

She stepped into his open arms and let him hold her, his strong arms encircling her back and cupping her neck. Her fingers splayed across his back, feeling the muscles beneath his tee shirt and his face burying into her neck. “Thank you, Jack. For knowing it was something more than a tummy ache.”

 

He pulled away but stayed close, her hands smoothing around to his chest, “Charlie had his out at two. He couldn’t tell us what Matt could.”

 

“Shit, Jack, I never even thought. Are you okay being here?”

 

His lips were in a tight line, his body tense under Sam’s hand. He hadn’t stepped into a hospital since he ran in this very one with Charlie in his arms and Sara hot on his tail. His hands had been slick with warm blood and his mind singular with white heat and desperation. He suddenly felt a hot, dark weight take residence in his chest and a sickening taste flood his mouth. Despite that, he nodded. “I’m fine.”

 

Her hand on his chest traveled up to his cheek, her thumb sweeping under his eye as her fingers threaded into the hair behind his ear. “You saved him. Matty.  _ You _ saved him.”

 

He looked down, telling himself to hear her words. His hands were on the base of her back, itching to press deeper into her skin and bring her a step forward, bring her into his body. He didn’t need to press however because Sam took that step, her thumb smoothing over the day’s stubble to play into the divot below his bottom lip. Her voice was barely above a breath, his name carried on the exhale over his lips. 

 

They were mere millimeters away when Matty roused in the bed, a whimper sounding from his dry lips. Sam huffed out a breath, before turning to her stricken nephew. She managed a smile, “Hi, little man!”

 

Jack muttered words, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’ll get the doc.” He hung back against the doorway when the nurse came through, checking on little Matty and adjusting chart readings. Sam was sat on the bed, stroking her hand over his face and telling him about his Mom and Dad racing back from his Grandparents’ in California and how he had given them all a scare and he was never to do it again or they’d tell Santa. She was just talking so he could hear a familiar voice.

 

The painkillers kicked in again and he drifted off, Sam maintaining a comforting hand on his chest, confirming for herself that he was breathing and alive. “The Doctor on the base is a good friend of mine. Cassie’s Mom. She said she’ll come over later on check on him.” Satisfied he was asleep and not in pain, Sam moved away from his bed and turned to Jack. “We have some of the best Doctors in the US Air Force if not country, and have the others on speed dial, so if she says he’ll be okay, he’ll be okay.”

 

Jack nodded, his arms and ankles crossed as he leant against the far wall. His face was dark from the exhausting day and the guilt that was beginning to settle in his stomach. “Carter…”

 

She crossed to him and fixed her lips to his, the Stargates tee shirt fisted in her fingers and she pulled him from the wall and further into her embrace. It took him a beat to realise what was happening and that she was initiating it, but soon caught up and cupped the back of her head, manoeuvring her face to deepen his kiss. She made a quiet sound from her throat, somewhere between a whimper and a moan and Jack pulled away with a grunt. “Sam… Pete…”

 

“He’s in Denver. He couldn’t come.”

 

“Still…”

 

Her head fell to his shoulder, her lips pressing against his skin, peppering the jut of muscle that led to the column of his neck with slow, open-mouthed kisses with lessening insistence and pressure. 

 

He huffed out a breath, “Sam…” God how he wished things were different.

 

“I know. Me too.”

 

He took her hand, interlaced their fingers and squeezed at hers. “C’mon,” he lead her to the spare seats near where Emily slept and they sat down. Emily roused at Sam’s hand over her hair and shuffled until her head was on her lap. 

 

“Get some rest,” he said quietly. “It’s been a long day and it’ll be a long night.”

 

Sam rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. 


End file.
